A Court of Bastards [ACOTAR]

Chapter 15

Breaking point.

That was the only way Fiona could describe what was going on in her head, the whirling stormclouds gathering in her mind. After her meeting with Eris she had sat quietly in her room, listening to her cousins titter and chatter as they headed out to join the celebrations. But Fiona was not staying put to respect Eris' decree. No, she was biding her time, listening to the swish of silk on stone outside her door until the quarters were empty, and she herself began to dress.

The process was painful and tedious, but lace by lace, Fiona thought of Baird with his key, of Xander's secret smiles, of Bella and her wicked grin. Riordan had been right, she reminded herself through the pain. He had always been right, and she had been too busy daydreaming to realise it.

The summit was a window of opportunity, and one that was closing fast. If she could only get to this ball, dance with Baird and find something in him worth loving, then perhaps she might be free of this court.

After a lot of hissing and gritting her teeth, Fiona managed to strap on a corset and petticoat. The fanciest dress she had packed in her trunk was little more than a slip, made of a dusky pink chiffon – but with a petticoat it might look almost presentable. She imagined twirling circles around Isolda and Keegan, treading on their toes as she and Baird danced through the night.

Fiona took a long look in the mirror, scanning herself head to toe with a critical eye. Beautiful was not a word she had ever used to describe herself, but tonight she was pretty enough. She slapped a bit of powder over the bruise on her neck, not really caring anymore whether it covered the wound or not, and made for the door.

But the moment she stepped out of her room the roaring in her head fell silent.

Her eyes fell upon Isolda and Keegan, perched on settees in the hall. Beside them stood Donovan, all three grinning wickedly as they took in Fiona, frozen in the doorway.

"I told you she'd come," Isolda giggled.

"Well, well, well, Fiona." Keegan's green eyes took on a violent gleam as she lifted her chin in triumph. "Trying to run off in the dark again, are we? When will you learn that there's always someone watching?"

Fiona's eyes darted between the three of them, and then to the door beyond, the door to the study. Light spilled from the open crack, and muffled voices announced a third party within, voices that she recognised from a set of foggy memories.

She didn't have time to think on it before the girls rose to their feet. Matching green and blue ballgowns puffed out beneath them, a kind of seafoam effect forming around the frilly hems at their feet.

"We're off to dance with your lovely Lord's son." Isolda beamed, the smile not reaching her eyes - eyes that slid to her cousin, staring with predatory intent across the hall. "Try to get the message across this time, Donovan."

Fiona locked onto her him as the twins disappeared into the corridor, their shrill laughter echoing along the walls. Donovan seemed to have learned from last time and lunged fast. But Fiona was faster, running on pure panic. She stepped backwards and slammed the door into his face, hearing a guffaw of pain as it connected with his nose.

Not again. She would not do this again.

Storming for the door, she cursed her skirts and slippers as they slid on the polished floors. Donovan reached her barely inches from the door handle, and swung her around with such force that Fiona skidded backwards on the marble, landing on her ribs and crying out in pain. The impact shifted something in her side and she heard rather than felt the grinding of bones, the undoing of her body's careful healing.